


Miss You

by CrazyBeCat



Series: Writer Bingo Challenge Three [11]
Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Foul Language, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Mirandy Year of Fun & Frolics, POV Second Person, Possible Character Death, Post it note, Tears, Writer Bingo, established Mirandy, painful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 10:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15928733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyBeCat/pseuds/CrazyBeCat
Summary: You sob a few times--hands clenched into fists, nails digging into your palms--then you grow quiet, fat tears still rolling down your cheeks, and listen...





	Miss You

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is a new thing for me.  
> I hate reading 2nd person pov. it fucks with my anxiety. I decided to see how I feel writing it. I don't know if I like it either, but I wanted to post this anyway.  
> It's a bit of a "Create your own". Just a little. It could be Miranda. It could be Andy. It could be one of the twins. It could be Character Death. It could not be. It depends all on perspective. So I hope you find it interesting? This is definitely not something I think I could pull off with a fic much longer than a small drabble. But a taste of trying something different.  
> I'm going through a lot of shit right now. So this kind of is a way of helping me cope also.  
> I hope you find it interesting.  
> For Bingo Card Six: Post it note  
> Thank you for reading,  
> CBC

You don't know how much time has ticked by as you sit in the kitchen, the only light on is the one above the sink, and it casts eerie shadows all around you. Your gaze has become blurry by this point, and you’re unable to make out the letters you so clearly know are in front of you. Blue ink on a bright yellow post-it note, sticking to the fridge right beneath a family photo, mocking you, teasing you.

_Good morning. Be right back. Love you._

You feel a hot tear slide down your face, and you aren’t even sure how your body has enough water to keep producing them.

“You bitch,” the words sizzle from your mouth, angry and acrid, and you swear you can hear them echo into the stale silence of the empty house.

“You fucking bitch!” You scream it this time, your body pitching forward with a heavy sob. Your eyes finally blink, and the blurry film clears only for your sight to become obscured by another wave of tears spilling from your eyes. “You lied to me! You said you’d never leave!” The words hurt, your throat parched and your voice hoarse. “How could you leave me!”

You sob a few times--hands clenched into fists, nails digging into your palms--then you grow quiet, fat tears still rolling down your cheeks, and listen to the tick, tock... tick, tock… tick, tock... tick, tock... tick, tock… desperate to hear the door open, and for this to all be some kind of horrid nightmare, desperate for it to be anything but the truth, so the aching hollow feeling in your chest could disappear.

You stare at those beautiful words, knowing how much time it took for her to perfect her craft. You stare at the sweeping loops and swirls that she writes--you feel the lump in your throat grow even larger as you correct yourself--wrote with a graceful effortlessness. You stare at those seven little words, and they begin to blur again, meshing and melding together into a blue streak.

It makes you think of those flashing blue lights, and you feel like throwing up.

“Please. Please, come back,” you whisper into the air. “I miss you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I'm sure not many will, because I think 2nd person isn't a favorite of the masses.  
> I'd like to hear what you thought.  
> CBC


End file.
